If I had two hearts I would live with one,
And devote the other to torment in your love.
Alas I only have one heart, possessed by love.
Neither pleased by living nor that death is near.
Like a tiny bird in the hands of a child, disgracing it,
Suffering the torment of death while the child is at play
Neither the child is aware of its suffering,
Nor the bird’s wings are free, for it to fly.

—Qays bin Mulawwah
(cuervo desértico, lo otro)